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“Good, shine it up ahead. ”
He did so.
Jordan started for the coffin that stood in front of the altar. She reached it, knelt down, and looked.
Cindy was within it.
She was afraid. She would touch Cindy and see that her head was no longer attached . . .
“She’s breathing. ”
“We’ve got to get her out of here. ”
But before either of them could move, there was a voice from the entry.
“There you are!”
Roberto Capo. And he sounded angry.
Jordan snatched the holy water from Raphael. As Roberto came striding toward her, she tossed a portion of the water at him.
It splashed against his face. He stopped, stunned, and wiped his face. He swore in Italian, something that ended with, “Americana!”
“Roberto, I’m so sorry! I thought that?”
She broke off, suddenly chilled to the bone. Someone . . . something else was here. She turned slowly to look at Raphael. He was staring at her.
She tossed some of the water at him.
“Jordan!” he said indignantly, wiping his face as well.
“This is crazy, and must?stop!” Roberto said firmly. He reached into his pocket; for a moment, Jordan thought he was going for a gun.
He pulled out a cell phone.
“I am calling headquarters. You are all?”
“Look, will you? Cindy is in a coffin!” Jordan said.
“I am calling headquarters,” Roberto repeated, flipping the phone open.
But before he could dial, they were all startled by a sudden flurry of wings, a cacophony of sound that grew louder and louder. Shadows seemed to loom over them, even in the darkness.
“Bats!” Roberto murmured, looking at the phone again.
A shadow descended.
The phone seemed to fly from his hand.
He spun around, facing the entry.
Nari Contessa della Trieste was walking down the aisle toward them, wearing a black Carnevale cape, her hair flowing free behind her, a smile of pure amusement on her face. She stopped several feet in front of them.
“Silly, silly, man! As if you can call the police against me!” When she reached Roberto, she swatted him, as if he were a fly.
That simple touch was enough to send him flying far across the church and smashing into one of the pillars.
“You, you, you . . . ” Raphael sputtered.
“Cat got your tongue? Or just your tongue in English?” Nari teased.
Raphael looked petrified. He reached toward Jordan, wanting the holy water. She let him have it. He was so nervous that the carafe fell.
And spilled against the floor.
Again, the contessa laughed.
“How kind of you!” she said, and another step brought her to Raphael. With the barest effort, she flicked him aside.
He crashed to the floor, hard. Jordan watched as he tried to lift his head, groaned, and fell back to the floor again.
“And dear, dear, Jordan! Here we are at last! A day of reckoning after all this time. ”
“What a bitch you are! ”Jordan said. She still had her final weapon?the can of seawater.
Nari shrugged. “I am Diana, goddess of the hunt!” she said. “And you, dear girl, are the hunted. ” She lifted her arms, stretching them to the rafters.
The flurry of wings began again.
Then a dozen shadows descended. They came to the floor and slowly took shape, encircling Jordan.
The figures wore masks and capes. Carnevale masks. Some, the expressionless theater faces of Venice.
Some, creations that were more like Halloween masks . . . wolves, aliens, monsters, among them.
As Jordan spun around, looking at them all, the circle tightened.
They came closer . . .
She waited, then picked up the trash can with its seawater. She tossed it out.
To her amazement, the monster-faced creature she hit started to scream. It stopped, swirling around in horror.
It began to fall, to melt . . . with a sizzling sound.
She stared.
They all stared as the creature kept melting, and melting, spilling out over the ground in a black ooze.
The eyes of the monsters, and the contessa, moved from the black ooze to Jordan’s face. She saw the amazement in them, and then the anger.
“Take her,” the contessa said softly.
The group hesitated.
“Take her!” the contessa screamed.
Jordan began tossing the water again, but there wasn’t enough. The creatures screamed and beat at themselves where the water touched them, but they came on.
As they moved in on her, they pulled off their masks.
They were people. Old, young, male, female. No. Not people. They were smiling at her now, smiling angrily, snarling . . . growling, moving in.
She threw the last of the water. Another creature went down.
But the rest were upon her.
She screamed as rough hands reached for her. She waited to feel the pain as the gleaming fangs sank in.
But none of them broke her skin. She was lifted, struggling frantically, and thrown upon the altar. She kept screaming, kicking, shouting, flailing, as she found herself tied down. Then, to her amazement, the creatures moved away.
She was to be the contessa’s supper! she thought.
But Nari merely came near the altar, standing in front of the coffin where Cindy lay in her deep, deep sleep, oblivious to it all.
Then, twisting her head, Jordan saw him.
The dottare.
The man who had appeared all around Venice. The man she had followed.
The man who had followed her.
He walked slowly toward her along the aisle, and as he came, she felt a fetid coldness unlike anything she had ever known before, a fear that went beneath her skin, a terror that was far deeper than any dread of death.
He came, closer and closer . . .
And with him, the feel of darkness. A haunting of the grave. Cold, black . . .
Evil.
He moved Nari aside and came to Jordan. He reached out gloved hands, and stroked her face, and she shrank inside, horrified. She would have screamed with revulsion and the deepest horror in her soul, but the sound would not come . . .
“Hello, Jordan!” he said softly.
And he pulled off the dottore mask.
She gasped, so stunned that for a moment, the fear left her.
“Steven!” she whispered.
Yes, Steven, and not Steven. Steven had laughed; he’d been kind, his features had been touched with life and color and . . .
His eyes now seemed to glow red, and his face was taut; his mouth, so prone to a smile, was caustic and cruel.
“In the?flesh, shall we say. ”
“It’s impossible. I?we?they?”
“You dug up my grave, and there I was. Jordan! Come now! Another corpse, burned to a total crisp, easily passed as mine. ”
“I . . . no!” she whispered. “You were . . . a cop! You were compassionate?”
“Good?” he inquired. “Not at all. I was bored, and I was afraid that my wanderings in Europe?since my release?might be noticed. I didn’t want to be noticed. Not then. Oh, there was a Steven Moore. And he was a right decent fellow, as they might say. I enjoyed him?and his very moral and righteous family?very much. Then I took his name and came to New Orleans. And met you. You really were incredible. So much passion and love of life and humanity all rolled into such a perfect little package. Of course, you turned out to be more of a pain than I had imagined but. . . well, all’s well that ends well, right?”
“How does it end, Steven?” she asked coldly. She realized then that he had been the end; she had been shocked beyond belief. And now . . .
She couldn’t fight him.
Only hate him.
“Well, the only way possible, of course. You will join us. Us! The true strength within our kind. You’ll become a hunter. Stronger, better, than you ever were before. You’ll join me now. Ah, Jordan, remember what was? It will be better. You little fool! Falling for my wretched, pathetic enemies! They are nothing, nothing against the kind of feast, and satiation, and thrill that you can know. We are the masters. The predators. And you will join me. They had me imprisoned in a steel vault in Yugoslavia for the longest time. Then there was an earthquake. The kindest people came to rescue me. I was starving.
My rescuers provided the most delicious meal. I wandered, met up with dear Nari again . . . and found you. It seemed so easy. Nari got to Jared. Jared has nearly killed Cindy. And though you eluded me at the party?and in your room, and through the streets?you’ll not elude me this time. I have missed you, my love, and now. . . now we’ll be together. ”
He started to lean toward her, as tender a lover as he had ever been.
But his mouth opened. His fangs dripped, oozed with saliva. They were immense, longer, ridiculously long, and sharp. She watched them. She closed her eyes, clenching her teeth, waiting, praying . . .
He gave out a startled sound, ripped back from her. Jordan’s eyes flew open.
Another shadow had descended, a shadow so large, winged and menacing, it seemed to cover all the church.
Ragnor.
He had drawn Steven from her but now the two faced one another.
“Get away from her,” Ragnor said.
“It is Steven,” Jordan got out. “You were right. ”
“Steven, yes, and no. Hagan, get the hell away from her. ”
Steven laughed. “You really didn’t know it was me? I’ve gotten good. You couldn’t get into my mind.
You thought I was still deeply buried from the last time we warred. No, I’ve been drinking blood?so much of it! I have a power even you can’t imagine now. ”
“I’m telling you one last time?get away from her. ”
“No, brother, this one is mine. I’ve always been able to take your women. ”
“Brother?” Jordan whispered, working furiously at the knots binding her to the altar as the two men stared one another down.
“Half brother,” Ragnor said. “I should have known. He has spent the last thousand years trying to destroy me. ”
“She has no interest in you, brother. I’m telling you?I’ve always had the ability to take your woman. ”
“You mean Nari? Well, she didn’t prove to be such a treasure. But this woman, Hagan? No, you’ll never take her. ”